Moon
by ellumina
Summary: When the night fades into morning and the shooting stars fall to Earth, the moon remains hoping, watching and waiting quietly for the chance to shine again. One-shot Quall.


_Author's note:_ Just enjoy.

_Disclaimer: _SquareEnix owns final fantasy VIII.

**Moon**

Squall made a wish. He'd been making wishes ever since he met Rinoa. With every fallen petal he'd held in his hands and with every shooting star his eyes sought out in the dark tranquility of the night, lay a sole, secret wish he held close to his heart.

He spoke of it to the skies at night, to the raging waves of the dark ocean, seeking solace in the simple gifts of Mother Nature that he had so often overlooked. Mother Nature gave him the best gift of all.

A glowing moon.

He wished the moon would never stop shining. He wished and he hoped that when all the stars faded and all the comets fell, the moon would hold on to the inky skies of midnight, illuminating it with a gentle, silvery glow to keep the hopes of those who witnessed it rising high.

He had seen the moon before, standing by his side, watching his back, keeping him warm even when the days were frosty and the nights were cold. It was his moon, his secret moon, that shone with a quiet, eternal light, contradicting the blinking stars.

Those had blinked and blinked and then blinked out forever.

His shooting couldn't shine anymore.

He had once wished, very hard, for it to shine again, but it couldn't. The hold Rinoa once had on his heart was slipping away, turning into a gentle brush of her fingers instead of a firm clasp and he didn't have the strength or the will to hold on to it. Even that had disappeared, faded into something no longer real and solid.

And it was breaking his heart.

"Aren't you going to stop?"

He smiled, even when his intruder's hand pressed firmly down onto he papers he'd pretended to be engrossed in. Like every time she spoke, her voice was laced with concern, frayed around the edges with fatigue yet strong enough to nourish that small, remaining ray of hope in his soul. Gentle, but not excessively so, strict but with genuine worry and as familiar as the very moon he dreamt of every night.

"I can't," he said simply, his eyes flickering as they made contact with Quistis's burning blues for the briefest of moments. "I have work."

"And you have tomorrow," the ex-instructor reminded him keeping one hand firm on the reports and reaching for the empty mug of coffee, still slightly warm, sitting on the corner of his desk. "Squall, you're drinking too much coffee. It keeps you awake."

He sighed and sat back, tilting his head just enough to look at her. She remained outwardly indifferent but the faint frown that touched her brows and the vague embers of worry in her eyes reached out to his sharp, speculative eyes and brushed his mind, revealing the worry she held, carefully hidden, for him.

His expression was blank but she understood the words his eyes spoke to her and smiled in response, removing her hand from the stack of paper and brushing it across the neat, elegant collar of her SeeD uniform.

Vaguely, Squall wondered if it was a nervous gesture or just a force of habit but then he remembered that Garden's prodigy was unfamiliar with such expressive motions. She always hid well and carefully behind thin sheets of ice which she refused to give them a chance to thaw.

"You're the commander, you'll do what you want, you'll finish your work because that _is _what you want, you'll see me later and you find me annoying. Anything else?"

"You're dismissed?" he suggested letting a small smile play on his lips. But the smile didn't reach his eyes. It never reached his eyes and Quistis's emotionless expression dimmed a notch, overshadowed by yet another slight frown.

She didn't respond to his words but opted to remain silent, watching him intently while he fought to act stronger than he felt under the sharp hold of her scrutiny. Quistis knew him too well for those subtle efforts to take effect. And Squall knew better than to try and trick her. he didn't want to.

"Squall, are you really alright?"

"Of course I am, Quistis," he murmured, lowering his eyes to his desk just to avoid hers.

She waited a heartbeat, watching him avoid her intently and then spoke again.

"Do you want me to leave?" There was no hurt in her voice, no particular sign of hope, but simple expectance for a straight answer. Squall's thoughts darkened at the prospect. A year ago, Quistis had killed too many emotions in her personal struggle to overcome his rejection.

He felt remorse, partly because he hated what he'd done to her and partly because he wasn't cruel enough to push her completely out of his life. At least, without her unintentionally reminding him now and again of what mere words had the power of doing, he wouldn't feel so flooded with shame and self-hatred.

He eased out of his thoughts when he heard the sharp patter of rain on the wall-wide window behind him, overlooking Balamb continent's lush, green fields and majestic mountains and just a glimpse of the sea in the distance.

"Can you believe that?" Quistis exclaimed, her voice warm with vague excitement and her eyes sparkling with delight. "In the middle of summer!" She put down the empty cup and circled the desk to where he was sitting, curled up in his seat. Squall's eyes followed her movements, stopping only when she walked past him to the wide, double-paned windows behind him.

After that, it wasn't only his eyes that followed.

Quistis reached for the latch, just as he came up beside her and fixed a brief, questioning look at him.

"You don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head stuffing his hands into his pockets and waited for her to push the window open. Her eyes were fixed on the soaked grass stretching as far as her eyes could see and she leaned forward with a small smile, her eyes genuinely thrilled as she watched the rain plunder to the Earth .

Beside her, Squall smiled at her delight, rested his arms on the sill at stared. He wasn't staring at the view outside his office window, but at the one standing just inside it, breathing comfort and hope into the dark void of his soul with the simple certainty of her presence.

And there was more than curiosity to his gaze.

"What?" Quistis asked self-consciously when she noticed that she was the subject of an intense scrutiny, carefully hidden behind a few loose strands of dark hair.

"Your eyes," Squall muttered without thinking and snapped back to reality when those very eyes narrowed slightly underneath furrowed brows. For a moment, he stood mesmerized; utterly entranced by the twin gems of liquid blue that sparkled like diamonds in the dim room. He forgot to breathe and silently wondered why he'd never seen the overwhelming power in those identical blue pools before.

And then he remembered. He had looked so deeply into them only once before and the result was a genuine fear that if he let Quistis's eyes hypnotize him the way they were doing now, he'd end up heartbroken.

He remembered a night when he'd pushed her away with the slicing cruelty of his words, words he'd uttered out of a numbing fear of being consumed by loneliness if ever he let himself hold onto the hope that those stunning eyes would linger in his memory and in his soul until eternity began and ended.

They had both been fooled by the blunt harshness of the words he's uttered in the Secret Place a year ago. They had both been fooled into believing that Squall had merely been exercising his cruel, arctic demeanor and announcing the desire to be left alone.

But now he remembered. Rejecting Quistis had been his mechanism for self-defense against a repeat of the tragedy he'd experienced when Ellone abandoned him. And he remembered now that there was nothing about Quistis Trepe he'd ever disliked.

"My eyes?" Quistis questioned in confusion, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into reality. Squall nodded and then cast his gaze away to the heavy sheets of rain pouring outside.

"They're not sky-blue." The tone of his voice was strangely detached, as if whatever his mind was thinking had nothing to do with the words coming out of his mouth. For a moment, he seemed lost in a completely different world, his eyes glazing over so readily that it seemed his physical body would soon disappear to that place his mind had wandered off to.

Quistis idly wondered if he'd hear her when she called him back.

"No they're not," she sighed mimicking his stance despite the quick sting of cold that made her shiver the minute she leaned out of the window.

There was a strange aura in the air, but she wasn't sure if it was the invisible tension building up or breaking down. A lifetime ago, she would've hoped for it to shatter. But she stopped hoping when Rinoa came into their lives.

"What then?" Even as he asked, his voice screamed with apathy.

Quistis, in one swift movement, spun around and headed to the door, not particularly interested in discussing anything relating to her.

"Go to bed, Squall," she urged as she stepped outside. "It's already past midnight."

When the door closed with a soft click, Squall was still standing in the same place, with the same empty look fixed on the rhythmic rain. His heart wasn't in the quite trance of the rhythmic rain however, it was lost somewhere in the words of a shooting star, frozen eternally in his mind.

"_Sky-blue," Rinoa insisted, eyes skimming over the dozens of arrangements scattered all over the florist's cramped store. "Like her eyes."_

"_They don't look natural," Squall muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and wishing he was somewhere else. He didn't understand why flowers seemed such a fundamental aspect when it came to visiting the infirmary where Quistis was still recovering from a near-death experience during her last mission. The ex-instructor was barely even awake yet._

"_They're pretty," Rinoa said, a statement of finality in her words. "She'll love them."_

"_Whatever."_

_She stilled, turned to him and spoke softly and solemnly, "I can't take it anymore."_

It was the last time he and Rinoa spoke as a couple.

After that, friendship won over love and they woke up from the illusion they'd fallen into months earlier. But Squall wasn't recovering as quickly as he should be. There hadn't been much to regret; Squall had seen it coming for the longest time, but he couldn't stop himself from wishing. So he wished that the shooting star would shine again. And when it didn't, he wished the moon would never stop shining.

It was the only light left that filtered into the void inside him.

Movement at the corner of his vision forced him to snap back to reality and he instantly frowned seeking answers in the warm, wet air and the soaked grass outside the window.

"Quistis?"

She ran into the fields, moving away from Garden, her arms spread out like wings and her face tilted up to the rain, glowing and radiant as it beat down on her and soaked her thoroughly from head to toe, a delighted smile playing upon her lips. Her hair framed her face elegantly even as she rushed outside, golden locks stuck to her skin by the power of the rain alone.

Squall didn't fool himself into thinking she was out of her mind. Instead he smiled as memories upon memories of his childhood flooded his mind and images of seven small children squealing with delight while they ran out to play in the rain filled his vision.

And their worried matron rushing after them in a feeble attempt to usher them back inside, fear for her children filling her dark, shimmering eyes.

That same fear was slowly conquering the swift moment of elation he'd felt when the memories stirred.

"You'll fall sick again," he sighed to the empty room and then grabbed his gunblade and ran outside to follow her.

* * *

Quistis stood still when she heard the footsteps coming behind her. Already knowing who was out her, she didn't bother turning around but she dropped her arms to her sides and let out a deep, weary sigh.

"This is just like Centra," she remarked pushing her wet hair away from her eyes. The rain was beginning to let up but somehow, she found herself willing it to continue.

It was a beautiful moment that she never wanted to end.

Gentle fingers brushed both her arms and Squall's deep voice drifted to her ears.

"We need to get inside."

Quistis turned around then and regarded Squall with glistening eyes, narrowed curiously. She could see beyond that dazed, glassy look in his eyes, deeper into his soul, something she'd learned to do a while ago but wasn't very successful in putting it to good use. But someone else did and she was grateful for that.

Squall was more frightened then worried. More frightened for himself than worried for her. When the first ripple of hurt began to spread inside her, she clamped down onto it and focused on building a few more layers of ice around her emotions.

Practice taught her to be quick and nimble when it came to controlling her feelings and a split second later, the emotions bubbling inside her simmered down and allowed a familiar black void existing in her soul, to expand in their place.

She concentrated on Squall's earlier statement and shook her head firmly, refusing to listen.

Squall was momentarily distracted by the moonlight glinting off golden hair that stuck to her cheeks and forehead noticing that it was loose and hung down her back in a spiraled cascade. He frowned simply because it was different and he wasn't used to seeing her different.

His attention broke when she spoke again and he looked at her, threading his fingers through his already soaked hair and pushing it away from his forehead.

"You can go," she gestured towards Garden, "But I want to stay some more."

Squall wasn't interested in why she would want to stay out here, or why she'd come out in the first place but he made a feeble attempt to appear so. He was more worried over the possibility that either of them may fall sick but then realized that, despite the rain, the gentle draft that blew past them was a typical, warm, Balamb-summer breeze.

"Why?" he asked, brushing at the moisture that lingered in his eyes. Quistis smiled and turned to set her gaze on the beach just a few feet away, lashes that were touched with clear droplets of rain brushing her cheeks softly as she blinked against the pattering drizzle. She opened her eyes wide, revealing the twin flames of delight and hope and just simple peace that danced in them.

"To remember."

He found himself envious of that demure, wistful look in her eyes and the longing in her voice, something he'd noticed in everyone but himself whenever the stories of their shared childhood was discussed. It struck him strange that Quistis, who always appeared unusually indifferent about her past would suddenly long for it that way. He could easily tell that she missed it and fought to hinder the frown forming on his face.

Why couldn't he miss his childhood like her?

"I want to remember too," he said, a bit forcefully, clenching his fists by his sides. He cast his eyes to the ground, his body trembling as he struggled to put his thoughts into words and failed.

He wasn't even sure what his thoughts were, but Squall was pretty sure that the past that had been plaguing his memory was not nearly as old or vague as the one stirring in Quistis's mind. This one was recent, painful and had a lot to do with a dark-haired girl who'd given up on him too soon.

He wished he could remember the distant past, hoping fiercely that he could seek solace in the warm pictures of children, sitting upon a brick fireplace and listening to tales of brave knights and beautiful princesses that their matron spoke of. But the images never formed and what little of them did had nothing to do with an ancient orphanage and a lonely lighthouse standing gracefully by the sea.

Squall could feel anger and emotion bubble up inside of him, rush to the surface to demand attention and he was afraid of what might happen after that. There was no-one else but Quistis at the moment and he didn't want to take his fury and frustration out on her. He'd done it before and the result had been a major change in Quistis's character. And not for the better.

His mind relaxed when two delicate hands closed onto his fists and a pair of magnetic eyes bore worriedly into his.

"Why don't you come with me, then?" Quistis suggested reasonably, a hint of concern laced into the calm tones of her voice, too small to be of any significance. "If you're not going to turn in then you might as well keep me company. And…" she hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking over to the looming structure of Garden at his back before they held his again. "We can remember together. There's a lot we did together back then."

He didn't know why it happened, but inside him, something else broke. She wouldn't even empathize with him anymore. She chose to pretend not to notice what was happening to him in consequence to his and Rinoa's break-up. He hated the fact that she ignored his hurt so openly. And he hated the fact that he could never blame her.

After all, he'd spent the better part of the year thoroughly convinced that he'd cast her off because of a false preference for loneliness.

Instead of yielding to the anger at the both of them, Squall looked her straight in the eye and nodded, closing one hand over hers and heading quickly to the beach pulling her after him. Quistis didn't seem to mind. But as she watched his back, her brow creased in a worried frown. Squall wasn't here to remember. That much, the ex-instructor was pretty sure of. He was here to escape.

The commander halted when they reached the beach, releasing her hand only when she stopped beside him and after that, the silence that fell upon the two extended well into the darkest part of the night, along with the rain that was quietly slowing but had yet to stop completely.

They shared it. Neither was particularly comfortable yet neither was troubled and Quistis supposed this was a good point.

Squall was a different story. He wasn't as eager to embrace that still silence as she was and upon realizing that Quistis was already basking in it, crouching down onto the beach and marveling in the quiet tranquility of the night, he realized that it didn't matter.

He wasn't one to take the initiative. He didn't know how to talk with her if she didn't talk first. So he did the only thing he could. He sat down next to her and stared out at the night.

"You always used to speak to the moon after Elle left," Quistis pointed out, absently drawing shapes in the wet sand with gloveless fingers. She looked up at his profile, irrationally touched by the faraway expression and the dreamy glaze lingering in his eyes. "What did you used to say to it?"

The pouring rain had faded into a light drizzle, falling like silky petals to the already wet sand and keeping both SeeDs effectively soaked. The air still smelled heavily of it, even near the ocean where the salty sea breeze failed to overshadow the fresh, faint scent of the heavens' tears. Quistis remembered the same smell from the beach near the orphanage, always luring her to the dark, stormy seas even when the nights were frosty and the sky black. Nothing scared her back in those days. Now, emotions did.

Squall released a deep, mellow sigh and fell back against the sand in a very uncharacteristic manner, tucking his arms behind his head and staring up at the white moon peaking from between drifting clouds. He was usually quite obsessed with tidiness but today just seemed like one of those days where he was ready to throw caution into the wind and not care about the consequences.

The thought made him frown uneasily and it suddenly dawned upon him that he wasn't merely letting his guard down, but he was doing it in the presence of someone else. Visibly shaken by his own actions, he turned his eyes to Quistis and wondered what was it about his ex-instructor that made him careless enough to abandon his guard. He also wondered why he wasn't feeling particularly apprehensive of her reaction.

Quistis didn't show any. Her gaze skimmed the sky and then dropped back to him, lingering briefly on the swirls of coffee-colored hair spread out over the golden sand. She smiled warmly at the picture he made and lifted an eyebrow in patience waiting for him to answer her question.

Squall smiled back and shifted his gaze once again to the full moon.

"To stay there."

"Huh?"

He smiled at her confusion and at the gentle, yet strong tone of her voice. He'd always believed that it was meant for affection. It was warm, gentle and comforting, yet strong and confident. A leader's voice. A protector's voice meant only to be a pillar of strength and light in the dark staggering whirlwind consuming the people of the world.

It was so much different from the angel's voice that was kind and caring and gentle for him.

It made sense to him now that he thought about it. Quistis was his savior, simply because her only concern lay in the well-being of everyone but her. Looking out for him hadn't been something special or selfish. It was simply a part of the mission she had been sent to complete. It was so much more magnificent and noble than Rinoa's objective which had only been to unfreeze his heart and stir his emotions.

His emotions had been stirring long before he'd even met Rinoa. And it was Quistis who had worked restlessly to achieve that.

Angels had never been meant for this world. It was a world of humans and saviors.

Squall smiled up t the moon, feeling an unfamiliar sense of gratitude embrace him. He mouthed a silent thanks to the glowing orb and looked back at Quistis.

"I always told it to stay there. I thought that if I ever had to leave I could come back and see it. You know what's really beautiful?" he asked suddenly as he sat up and turned to face her, brushing away the tendrils of silky hair that slopped over his face.

Quistis, irrationally touched by the words he'd just said, found her voice after a delayed moment of silence. "What?"

"It did."

"Yeah," Quistis said warmly, a small smile on her radiant face, reaching out to twinkle like stars in her twin cobalt pools.

"You know what else is beautiful?"

"The sun?" the blonde suggested laughingly.

Squall shook his head and watched the amusement on her face. She was still, in so many ways like the moon he wanted her to be. Despite the years that had gone by, tainted with anguish and pain and war, she stayed the same, still radiant, still beautiful, still there.

Words had never come easy to the commander, and Squall had never been particularly bothered by that fact, but today they were flowing from his tongue like water sprinkled with a trace of sugar. He wasn't holding back anymore. He'd done so for so long and had left others to agonize over his seclusion. But at this moment, his mind was, for the most part, overshadowed by his own heart so he let it speak what his heart told it to and the words tumbled out of his mouth like a gushing waterfall.

"You did too." They were simple words, but they filled him with an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction and the confusion on her face, in her narrowed eyes was stunning.

"What?"

"You stayed," Squall explained, emotion filtering into the deep tones of his voice yet still cleverly hidden underneath just the right amount of indifference. He held her gaze, slowly falling prey to the enchanting beauty of her legendary eyes. He let her hypnotize him with them, cast her spell on his swelling heart and gently coax it into reaching out with invisible fingers to bring her within its empty confines. "You always stayed." He shrugged distractedly, still not quite able to break from the spell. He didn't even want to. "It was beautiful to watch."

Quistis was thoroughly confused and made it clear by holding a hand up.

"Stayed where and watch what exactly?"

"You stayed with me," he said. At this point, nothing was simpler than putting his thoughts into words. He could almost feel the spell she cast on him, binding him to her with golden shackles of hope and joy. "Standing by my side, watching my back, keeping me warm even when you needed it more. It was beautiful to watch you glow, to keep shining and give out your light to everyone else. I didn't understand why you did it and for the most part, I still don't, but it still is incredible to see. I never grow tired of it."

"Why not?" she bit out and he instantly detected the bitterness in her tone. Eyes that glistened dreamily snapped back to attention and focused on her face. Alarm quickly grew inside of him and he struggled to hold tight onto the fading binds of gold she'd just been holding him with. "I did. I grew tired of it. And if I'm really shining like you say then I want to stop. You've got everything mixed up anyway," she muttered angrily. "I stayed with you because I'm your mentor. I stood by your side because I'm your comrade. I watched your back because I'm your friend."

He looked her straight in the eye. "And you kept me warm because?" he prompted bluntly, already knowing the answer. It was a dare, a challenge made clear by the meaningful look he held her gaze firmly with. Inside his heart, a storm raged as fear and hope clashed in a fight for domination.

Quistis didn't back down. She didn't lie either.

"Because I'm in love with you," she said bravely, hugging her knees to her chest and working on building up the layers of ice wrapped around her heart. Her voice was hurt and tense when she spoke again. "You're being cruel. I already know I've been a naive fool all along and I'm trying to change." She was furious with both of them and was struggling to mask her agony and her tears.

Squall curled his fingers into tight fists. Quistis couldn't possibly break him this way. She couldn't want to stop loving him so fiercely. He wouldn't survive a minute if she did.

"You're not supposed to change," he said through clenched teeth, his eyes boring angrily into hers. "You're not meant to. The moon _never_ changes. Even when the sky does, it has to stay the same. What the hell would happen if it did?"

Quistis recoiled as if he'd hit her. She'd never seen him so angry in her life before. Or so broken. He gave her a frosty glare that quivered with something suspiciously close to tears and then stood up, and turned to face Garden.

She couldn't bear to let him go just yet. Not with that powerful, intense flame of hurt she'd seen burning in his eyes. She wasn't sure what she said or did that ignited it, but somehow she felt horrible enough to know that whatever it was, it had been like a knife aimed straight at his heart.

"What are you trying to say?" she pleaded jerking up to stop him from leaving. Standing behind him, her hands latched onto his shoulders and held him still. "Tell me, Squall. Tell me everything! I don't understand you anymore!"

"I need you." He said everything he needed to in those three words. Broken as they were, as he was, they melted the ice between the two.

"I'm right here," Quistis responded earnestly, running her hand across her moist eyes. He turned around and touched her cheek with his fingertips urging her to meet his eyes. Even when she did, he didn't move his hand away. He was desperate to maintain any form of contact however small or insignificant. He needed the reassurance, the acceptance and the desperate feel of belonging again. Belonging with her. In her heart.

And he just needed her.

"Exactly," he said softly. "You're still here. For me. Even after everything, you're still here. You haven't changed at all." He lifted his free arm and gently framed her face between both of his hands. "It makes sense. I don't know why but it does. Why can't you be satisfied with that?"

There wasn't much force behind those last words but the accusation was there, woven intricately into the quiet, deep tone of his voice. He dropped his hands and shifted, turning his back to her once again as if he didn't want to look in her eyes. Quistis knew better. Squall was only afraid of being misunderstood.

She watched him in silence, saying and doing nothing other than observe him turn away from her, ultimately lose faith in her selflessness and give up on making her understand what it was he felt.

"Rinoa left because I didn't change enough for her. And you're distant because I changed too much for you. What do you want me to do?"

Quistis ignored the question. "How am I distant? I told you I'm right here." She paused for a moment and hesitantly lifted a hand to his back. "I also told you I'm in love with you, didn't I? And I told you with more than just words. I've been telling you for years." She pressed both her hands to his back, unsure of whether or not he understood what she was trying to incorporate in the touch. When he stepped forward towards Garden, she slid her arms around him and held him in place.

He tensed at first and then simply relaxed against her, taking her hand in his and pressing them against his face. He felt the overwhelming need to run away form everything, from her. And run straight _to_ her and just hide his existence in her heart. He hid his face in her hands instead and just reveled in the warmth of her presence.

Quistis had to muster up all her courage to utter her next words.

"What do _you_ want me to do?"

For the longest time she waited, maybe for another rejection. She wasn't sure how long the silence extended but her concern gradually grew up till the point where she began to panic.

Her gaze shifted to Garden as if to ask fro help and then she remembered she'd stopped expecting help years ago.

But in her arms, Squall had not. He still waited for some form of comfort, something that she wasn't sure was possible. At least not from her. She was willing to try, to sacrifice like she had done time and again but it wasn't the consequences that mattered now. It was Squall. It didn't seem like anything she could do would ease the anguish lingering in his soul.

Garden stood proud in front of her and behind them, the high, rocky mountains loomed in the near distance tall enough to brush the sky and grace the field with their power. Quistis's gaze alternated between them both, Garden and the few peaks that swam into the corner of her vision when she turned her head.

In her mind's eye, they both symbolized the same thing. Strength and stability. No war could move the spirit of Garden and no storm could remove the mountains. Squall had always been seen like the mountains.

But Quistis could see what was beyond his strong façade. To her, he'd been a caged bird, wanting only to be set free. She tried to be his rescuer and failed. But when she gave up, she left him in good hands. Rinoa had freed him from that prison, brought him out from behind the bars to the vast sky that stood on invisible pillars.

He'd learned to be like the mountains then, like the very essence of Garden, standing tall and proud with his angel by his side. But his angel had only been a star, blinking in the dark until it burned out.

"Squall, you're freezing," she remarked worriedly. "You should've told me. Go back inside."

"I'm staying," he insisted. "If you're staying out, then so am I."

She smiled. He wasn't stubborn. He was desperate.

"I don't want to stare at your back for the rest of the day," she stated softly, voicing her conditions if he really was going to stay. "Look at me. At least pretend to look at me."

He didn't and her heart cracked a little. But there was no more ice left in her to build her walls. It had melted over the course of the night leaving her weak and defenseless. But the weakness was different. It wasn't her weakness. It was Squall's and the impact it had on her left her as fragile as crystal and glass. She felt his hands tighten around hers and he burrowed his face further into her fingers silently begging her to guide him down the right path. The one that led to her.

"You don't want to?" she asked. "Then fine. I don't mind. But there's no reason for both of us to be here, right? I can't face you on my own just yet. I'm scared. Are you scared too, Squall? Why don't you go back inside then? Or I could."

She waited for a delayed moment, while his gaze shifted from the sea to the sky to the mountains, coming to a rest at his feet. He didn't answer her. He didn't even look at her. Part of her debated on whether she should feel angry or concerned or even hurt by his silence. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she was immensely worried about him, but the way his silence cut swiftly through the haze of emotions drifting around her heart, shredding them into tiny pieces, left her feeling empty more than anything else.

It didn't come as a surprise to her. A year ago, Quistis had concluded that the dark void in her chest had been sewn inside her long before her feelings for Squall had existed. It simply expanded to include her heart after he made it clear that there was no place for her in his. Things had changed a lot since that day but she still couldn't decide if his thoughts regarding her where significant enough to change his opinion. She was too frightened to hope.

He was so confused at the moment, and she felt too drained to do anything about it.

Her hands slid free and she unwound her arms from around him biting her lip desperately as the loss of contact left her staggering in grief. She hugged herself, tried not to dig her fingernails too roughly into her skin and just looked at Squall. He was shivering. He was scared. He was trapped. He needed his savior.

Quistis didn't even know that Squall's savior was the same woman she saw in the mirror everyday. But she knew that it was up to her to hold him together until he found that mysterious unknown.

Squall heard the faint rustle of clothes coming from behind him and clenched his jaw, knowing that he was alone again. Solitude came easy to him. Unwelcome but easy. It wasn't something he openly despised; he was well acquainted with it, despite the discomfort, but he felt so much more alive when he wasn't locked up in his own little, dark world. He felt so much more real when Quistis's hands had been pressed to his face and her scent soothing his fears.

But she didn't seem to understand the power that loneliness had on him. She couldn't quite see the sheer strength of its hold.

Maybe it was just something he preferred to deal with himself or maybe it was something he was too scared to deal with at all but in the end, he couldn't quite cure himself from the curse of loneliness.

The commander stood there, gazing at nothing in particular and absently calculating how much time was left till dawn. He counted seconds in his mind, minutes and hours until he finally realized that the hand clenching around his heart wasn't going to loosen its hold. He needed to concentrate on freeing himself from the curse of his own confused emotions.

He cringed. Now that he was alone, it felt impossible to do for hr could almost see the big, black barriers crossing his path. Instead, Squall sighed softly, pushed damp hair away from his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets, lifting his eyes to greet the moon.

"Don't be mad at me," he whispered to it, letting the corners of his lips curve slightly. "Don't be mad at anyone. You're so much better than that."

He spun around prepared to walk back to Garden and halted in mid-step.

"You're still here?"

Quistis shrugged, resting her chin on her knees and watching the calm waters with curious eyes. The moon was a high, full orb of white and silver, bathed over her, wrapping her in a blanket of ethereal light, of liquid silver and igniting silvery flames in her deep blue eyes. It glinted off her hair, where tendrils of gold silk twined with strands of silver satin and cascaded over her shoulders in a waterfall of blinding magic.

She'd always been a beautiful woman, but Squall didn't think he'd ever seen her so simply stunning before. Even when the rosy tint of her pale cheeks faded in the pale moonlight, and delicate lips, usually painted a cranberry red, settled for a soft shimmering coral. She looked different but somehow much more familiar to him than the graceful, stern warrior he'd come to know her as.

For a fleeting moment, Squall firmly believed that if he reached out to touch her, his fingers will pass through.

"I came down here because I wanted to. Why would I leave?"

He shook his head and walked over to where she sat in the damp sand, eyes gazing at the line where the sky and the ocean met. For a moment he stilled, looking down at her as if asking for permission to sit down and then he realized that there was no point in it since she wasn't going to stop him anyway.

His arm brushed hers as he dropped down to the sand and settled next to her, shoulder pressed against hers in some form of comfort though he wasn't quite sure if he was offering that comfort to himself or to Quistis. She had never openly demanded it, yet neither did Squall but he knew just how much he craved that brief moment of relief. But relief wasn't what he got.

Silence had always been his strong point, and lately, hers too but Squall had never known a time when such a sharp quiet moment had been more painful.

Worried at the turmoil in his mind, he brushed his fingers along her arm and closed them over her hand seeking reassurance in the more intimate gesture. Quistis wasn't as cold as him, but she was colder than she should be and he visibly cringed wondering if part of it had to do with him and his selfishness. Maybe even all of him believed that. After all, it was the middle of summer and the climate was generally warm despite the rain. There was no reason for her to be cold.

Quistis hesitated for a moment before she gave in and linked her hand with his, her delicate fingers gentle but firm and welcome in his hold. It struck her as strange when Squall began rubbing them, mainly because he was even colder than her and she was the one who was supposed to warm him, but she felt too comfortable with the touch and too uneasy to break it and ruin the moment.

But Squall, he was shaking and shivering, troubled by his own confusion. And Quistis wanted him to stop. She wanted him to stop so much, it was beginning to consume her.

"No," she stated suddenly, shaking her head and gently stilling his movements with her other hand. "Let me."

Head still bowed, Squall smiled and closed his eyes under the fringe of dark hair that draped over his forehead. It wasn't in her nature to ask for protection. It was always her doing the protecting, taking care of all those around her in such a quiet, subtle way that her efforts ended up overlooked despite their enormous effects.

He expected her to do the same thing he'd been doing, warm his fingers between hers and ended up thoroughly surprised when she slipped her hands from underneath his and wound her arms around him, dragging him close to her. There was fervor to her touch, a hint of shock and anxiety that matched the alarm on her face.

"Squall, you lied to me," Quistis whispered brokenly and trembled from the intensity of concern that raged inside her. She hugged him tight, arms pressing into him, one at his chest the other at his back, and slender fingers clutching the leather of his jacket as if she was afraid he'd evaporate. She bit her lip and hid her face in the crook of his neck ignoring the velvet caress of the furred collar of his jacket against her cheek. "You lied to me. You're not okay. You're cold. You're hurting."

Squall didn't do much, nor did he say anything. He let her hold him, hide against him while he smiled up at the moon and communicated a silent word of gratitude to the glowing orb. On impulse, he lifted his arm and spread his fingers towards the sky trying to reach that very moon that watched over him day and night even if it was being overshadowed by the sun and the stars.

"Are you feeling cold too?" he asked the moon softly. "You're tired, aren't you? I'm sorry. Really, I am, but don't worry. You'll get some rest soon. Just…stay there when I come back. Don't leave. Don't ever leave. I'll be lonely if you do. And sad."

He snapped out of his short-lived trance when Quistis touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers and turned his eyes to hers. There was a strange frown on her face, embers of worry in her eyes all of them touched by a hint of twinkling silver from the cascading moonlight.

"You might feel better if you talk to me, Squall. At least…at least I'll listen. I might even talk back." She smiled sincerely threading her fingers through his hair and brushing it away from his eyes. "Do you think you can do that? Trust me just a little? It's okay if you don't want to but I…"

Squall lifted his arms, framed her face in his hands and leaned forward, effectively cutting her off when he tenderly swept his lips across hers. When the initial shock left her frozen then frightened then dazed, he leaned further into her, hands dropping from her face, arms surrounding her body to hold her close, and deepened the kiss, his lips touching and grazing across her trembling ones until they stilled and warmed.

When he pulled back, gazed intensely into her eyes until the glazed, glassy look in them faded, he found his voice and spoke words more sincere and genuine then anything he'd ever spoken before.

"Don't hurt so much," he murmured, holding her chin up so she couldn't escape his eyes. "I _was_ talking to you."

His eyes were dancing with delight, shimmering with happiness, something Quistis hadn't seen in him so real and ardent before.

"Me?" Quistis cried in disbelief and then frowned as she pondered the thought. "I think…I get it now," she murmured tentatively. "The moon. _Your_ moon. _I'm_ your moon." Her eyes snapped to his, narrowed suspiciously and she backed up a little, leaving a significant patch of wet sand between them. "Squall?"

He was smiling at her, stroking bare hands on her face and tracing her features with gentle fingers, marveling in her beauty and drowning in her eyes and just really falling in love with her.

Falling in love with her for only the millionth time since his eyes dodged faces and passed over heads and met hers in Balamb Garden's hectic corridors an eternity ago.

She _did_ understand. Quistis Trepe did understand that Squall Leonhart was hurting, that all he needed to feel better was her. Her words when she hugged him, when she touched his face and pleaded with him to seek solace in her had made it all clear.

He focused his attention to the wet sand between them and stroked his fingers over it, well aware of the fact that this was where she'd been sitting, in his arms, just a few seconds ago before she'd torn herself free at the shock of his words.

"You're my moon," he breathed in conformation. There was a blunt, casual easiness behind his words and, that, along with the trademark half-shrug he managed, threw her into a whirlwind of confusion. She forced herself out of it and frowned uneasily at him unsure of whether it was his turn or hers to speak.

Squall saved them both the trouble.

Her eyes, distracted by his moving arm dipped to the sandy beach between them and stayed there, watching the words being written.

I love you.

It was almost unfair that three small words could have an effect of such an astounding magnitude on the human heart. Quistis made a point to tell him that once said effect wavered off. Right now, she had to deal with keeping her swelling heart from expanding outside the limits of her body.

"You love me?" she murmured still unable to believe."You love _me?_"

Silent as ever, Squall turned to the sand again.

_I love you_, his fingers spelt again. _Quistis Trepe, _he added as an afterthought.

And then, as if suddenly aware that those words might scare her off, he reached forward and dragged her against him, clamping desperate arms tight around her and burying his face against her collarbone when she fell to her knees in front of him.

"Please don't go," he whispered against her skin. Quistis thought she could detect the faintest trace of tears in the quiver of his voice. "Please stay."

Quistis's mind was whirring frantically even as her fingers gently touched his hair and twined through the silk of it. There was so much confusion inside her at the moment, a raging war in her mind and a turmoil storming in her heart that she couldn't seem able to grasp at a single thought before it skittered away under the sheer pressure of the barrage of questions pushing to the surface of her mind.

Squall's warm breath against her skin wasn't making things easier and neither was the soft scent of leather and musk drifting from his body to numb her senses. There seemed to be so much going on in her heart at the moment all somehow linked to him and to what he was doing to her, that her mind simply couldn't catch up. For once, Quistis Trepe couldn't favor her mind over her heart even though she wanted to.

Her lips curved into a bittersweet smile as the impact of that one weakness hit her head-on and her arms tightened their hold on him, offering him just as much protection as she was offering herself in his presence and his heart. And she felt that flaw in her, of being unable to think outside what her heart was telling her just because of three little words, double in size.

She didn't mind it then for the sole purpose that she _couldn't_ mind it. Not here, not now and not with Squall resting trustingly against her, his arms banded around her waist and his fingers curled around the fabric of her shirt in an innocent, childlike manner, his face half-hidden just under her collarbone where her heart and her scent and her soul welcomed him into the warm confines of her very existence.

_Words can be so beautiful_, she thought silently letting her fingers glide down the nape of his neck. _But to you Squall, silence always spoke louder._

In her tired arms, Squall was fast asleep, days upon days of sleepless nights and exhaustion finally catching up to him and wrapping him in a warm, loving blanket close to her heart. His breathing was deep and easy and the frown that had been marring his face for so long had faded into a simple look of peace. She was glad that he wasn't cold anymore and extremely grateful that he wasn't sad. He was simply tired, his mind drained and his body exhausted, limp in her arms yet peaceful and content.

He was simply there with his heart in her hands and his soul embracing her.

She pressed her cheek to his hair and skimmed her gaze over the horizon watching as the first trace of color slithered intothe black sky. _I'm here Squall. I'll stay right here for you, I'll be here for you and…you already know, I love you too._


End file.
